Windows of Humanity
by Aethra Caelis
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles on the loves, lives, hopes, fears and dreams of the people in Gundam 00. UPDATED! "Christina Sierra - Shopaholic"
1. Soma Peries: Sweet Victory

Disclaimer: _Gundam 00_ characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.

_Written last Sepbember 23, 2008, this is a ficlet in response to a prompt at the Mechaphiles Forum, "Do you like sweets?" This piece references to episode 20 of the first season, and contains a speculation of mine back then – that Colonel Smirnov's wife was still alive and I named her Antonia. _

_Canon has confirmed however, that the Colonel is a widower, and that his wife's name was Holly. _^_^ _But I hope you enjoy reading this, nonetheless._

**Sweet Victory**_**  
a Gundam 00 fanfic by Cielo**_

"Are you Lieutenant Peiris ?"

Soma did not realize she was nodding off to sleep, sitting on a hospital bench outside an Intensive Care Unit, until a middle-aged woman called her attention. As a knee-jerk reaction, she abruptly stood up in a salute, "Hai, Chusa !" She then blinked her golden eyes as she was met by the bemused woman's face.

"I'm Antonia Smirnov, the Lieutenant Colonel's wife," she held out her hand which the silver-haired girl took in a handshake, "I see you've been watching over him all this time. Thank you very much."

"Y-you're welcome..." the young lieutenant was still in her yellow pilot suit. With a quick glance at a nearby clock, it had been a little over six hours that . Smirnov had been in the ICU. The stillness and silence of this area of the hospital made the fight with Celestial Being seem so far away.

Both women sat side by side. From the corner of her eye, Soma studied Antonia -- she had dark burgundy locks clipped back by a black barrette. Her age may not be far from that of the Lieutenant Colonel. Her manner of dress was far from being shabby -- she looked sharp and had a regal aura about her. She figured it was to be expected from the wife of a high-ranking military officer.

"I was told you saved his life."

Soma turned her head as Antonia broke the silence. She was smiling at her.

"I... disobeyed his orders."

Antonia's smiled broadened, her hazel eyes carrying the hint of amusement, "Thanks to you, he's still around to give you more orders you can obey."

Soma felt a smile tug at the edge of her lips. Antonia reached into her tote bag and pulled out a box of chocolates, "Here." The young woman took a fancy to a scallop-shaped white & milk chocolate swirl. The creamy confection slowly melted in her mouth and she gave in to a smile.

She suddenly remembered the HRL army base that they had saved from the Gundam Throne attack -- the men's cheers and waves were a sight that was... strange and at the same time got her heart beating under a different kind of rush. "The sweet taste of victory," Chusa called it. She had wanted to taste it again, experience that rush again -- a rush only obtained after a heated battle, her neck on the line, every bit of her soul pulsating after that strongly desired victory.

But the grateful smile of the Lieutenant Colonel's wife, and her simple words & gestures of gratitude did not equate to the rush she was after. It was more like that creamy confection in her mouth, warming her heart, and definitely tasting just as sweet.


	2. Tieria Erde: Just Like Space

Disclaimer: _Gundam 00_ characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.

_Written back in October 28, 2008, this is a one-shot in response to a prompt at the Mechaphiles Forum, "Pool."_

**Just Like Space**_**  
a Gundam 00 fanfic by Cielo**_

_Wang Residence, location classified._

"Chris-chan," Sumeragi poured herself a margarita, as she and the crew watched the sunset from Wang Liumin's large living room, "where's Tieria?"

"Shouldn't he be in the basement?" Chris got herself her own glass.

"No -- I just checked and he wasn't there," the tactical forecaster sipped her chilled drink and sat back, "never mind. He shouldn't be far."

***

It was known by all of Celestial Being that Gundam Meister Tieria Erde had some form of dislike for Earth -- may it be pollution, the masses of busybodies, and most of all, gravity.

There was something unsettling about this force pulling you down -- you want to move upward and forward, fly and reach for the stars and do something beyond yourself and yet you stay, "grounded." Nothing to do but pick one foot up and down, followed by the other foot, moving the body into a redundant cycle.

Objects fall under the pressure of this Gravity -- solids break, liquids spill, and even gases succumb to its power. Trees and plants, express their longing for the infinite heights and yet their roots run deep into the soil. Humans find beauty in their being "grounded" -- perhaps because they do not have a choice.

Space -- now that's a different thing. Tieria, being the neat person that he his, finds order in the scattered stars and planets; colors, shapes and figures on a vast and deep canvas. And being inside Veda, space, and the mess called Humanity, are put into order.

The trips to Wang Liumin's home are a pain, but necessary. His only comfort was the Veda terminal in the basement, which gives him a semblance of order -- but gravity and all that atmospheric noise was still a bit of a dilemma...

***

The warm reds of the sky gradually gave in to the cooler shades of the night. Feldt sat on a couch, watching a documentary on the body's conditioning for space travel. Seeing men and women submerged in gallons of water -- floating, to get used to weightlessness.

"Tieria..." she got up and walked to the sliding glass window, looking out into the pool area. Only a few lamps around the lawn were lit and the pool's diving end suddenly seemed deeper than 10 feet. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness was startled as she saw a pale body emerge from the dark water, topped with a mop of wet purple hair. She heard a minute intake of breath, as the Meister dove back in.

***

Water had an uncanny ability of maintaining the atmosphere's temperature. The warm rivulets brought in by the afternoon sun, mixing with the cool tendrils kissed by the night air makes one think that water is alive.

The pool water may be held down by gravity, but Tieria found comfort in the weightlessness he was in -- no noise, nothing to pull him down: he goes up and gets air, he sinks back in and he finds himself in space. Never mind the pruny fingers and lingering smell of chlorine afterwards, but the pool is enough until he gets out of Earth's grasp.

-- END --

_I've always had this image of Tieria under water to simulate weightlessness – and it was also what triggered me to write my other Tieria-centric fic, "Celestial Being Origins – Book One."_


	3. Billy Katagiri: Smell the Coffee

Disclaimer: _Gundam 00_ characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.

_Written back in November 14, 2008, this is a one-shot in response to a prompt at the Mechaphiles Forum, "We can't afford to be innocent."_

_... And because Billy needs a hug. And a cookie._

**Smell the Coffee**_**  
a Gundam 00 fanfic by Cielo**_

"Billy... Billy! Get up, it's time to go to school."

A nasal groan and the shuffling of a nest of warm covers answered a gentle woman's voice. The young boy felt a hand ruffle the tuft of hair that stuck out from his covers. He lifted a lazy hand and feebly swatted at the touch, eliciting a giggle from its owner.

"Come on now, you'll be late."

She was met by a stubborn sigh, making the blankets rise and fall in motion. The woman smirked knowingly -- she still had an ace up her sleeve.

"Made you blueberry pancakes, just the way you like 'em!"

The covers were swiftly thrown aside, as the bed's occupant sprung up from his lying position. He swept the fringes of his sleep ruffled, cropped dark gray hair from his face, as he reached for his glasses on the nearby bed stand. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he wore his spectacles and greeted the woman sitting on his bedside with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Mom!"

He fell into her warm embrace, as the distinct aroma of his father's freshly brewed coffee and the sweet, buttery scent of pancakes invitingly wafted into his room, mingling with the fresia bath soap his mother used. He shut his eyes as he breathed in...

***

"Billy, I just noticed something..."

A long-faced college student looked up from reading the weekly campus paper. He was sitting on one of the many benches that lined the walkways of a Union university, beside him, a classmate –- one that he considers a good friend. A crisp spring breeze stirred the dark gray strands framing his glasses.

"... a little observation you know... you have this _habit_ --"

Just then a small group of girls passed by in front of them. The closest one caught Billy's gaze and she smiled sweetly, a small shrug teasing the wavy burgundy locks by her shoulder. She clutched a binder and a book to her generous chest, "Good morning, Billy! See you later in class?"

His heart caught in his chest as he breathed in, trying not to stutter, "G-good morning, Kujou. Yeah, I'll ... catch you later." He followed her with his eyes as the girls walked on ahead, Billy breathing in deeply once more – he caught the scent of sweet ginger and something citric – lemon, or...

"Billy?"

His friend tapped his shoulder, and he saw that he face wore an all-knowing smirk, "See? _That_ habit..." Billy blinked his eyes, as he breathed in again, nose slightly turned up. The friend raised a finger, "... only when _she_ passes by, of course."

***

Billy Katagiri stirred, as the scents and sensations of warmth and comfort, of a youthful spring full of hope and romance seeped away from his mind, replaced by a sudden jolt of discomfort along his spine: his buttocks flat on a rough carpeted floor; back painfully hunched over and legs under a table-bas on which his cheek was sticking on its surface.

He shallowly inhaled and exhaled with a groan, his nose taking in the smell of stale alcohol –- Beer? Whisky? Gin? Rhum? All of the above? -- and saliva. He groaned louder as he lifted his head from the table -- nasty crick in the neck he's got now -- and wiped his cheek with his sleeve.

He leaned his elbows on the table-bas and ran his numb fingers through his hair. His living room was spinning in his hangover, and blurry in the absence of his glasses. His fingers clenched as he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, as a mantra ran through his head, clear amidst a rumbling migraine:

_Good morning Billy -- wake up and smell the coffee._


	4. Marina Ismail: One Less Lonely Child

Disclaimer: _Gundam 00_ characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.

_Written back in November 17, 2008, this is a one-shot in response to a prompt at the Mechaphiles Forum, "Like a child, like an adult."_

_... And also because we need Marina to stand up and do something. We also need something to showcase her strengths (because at the rate the season is going, she's going to be the worst and the weakest heroine in the whole _Gundam_ franchise – and I don't want that to happen!!)_

**One Less Lonely Child**

**a Gundam 00 fanfic by Cielo**

An elderly man watched a group of children run along the park in a game of tag. He sat on a bench with a paper bag by his side, holding two loaves of bread and provisions for two days. He leaned forward, wrinkled hands on a cane, his brown eyes smiling at the laughing group of youngins.

One child caught his attention. He was standing on one side watching the group run to and fro. His lips were in a pout, face downcast. Something stirred in the old man's mind -- he closed his eyes and he was met by a vision he would never forget...

It was a good forty years ago, but his mind's eye could still paint a mural of elephants grazing on green fields against a sun kissed blue sky. He looked down to his hands -- still smooth and small -- as he absentmindedly piled oddly shaped blocks on top of the other.

Three other children were playing to his left with the rest of the blocks and some puzzles. They were laughing and joking around. Sometimes they would go out and run around the underground Katharon base they called "home", and left him alone to his thoughts.

Looking back, he couldn't blame them -- he was the latest addition to the growing number of orphans to the base. They didn't speak the same dialect, and the grownups had their hands full to give them their full attention.

He was surprised one day, however, as the children brought back as what he thought was an angel -- her silky black hair falling down to her waist, her eyes blue as the night sky and her white dress immaculate. From what he understood from his fellow orphans was that she was a queen -- Marina Ismail, her name was.

The tension in the small room grew thick for him. He felt all the more like an outcast. No parents, no friends, no fellowman. The fact that she was royalty weighed heavily on his young mind -- he was not worthy and he was nobody. This woman had nothing to do with him -- she was not his queen, and he was definitely not her subject.

The blocks lay by his knees. He no longer knew what he wanted to create -- until his field of vision glowed -- ethereal it was in his mind's eye. He looked up and saw this Marina crouch down in front of him, speaking in a neutral dialect.

"Why are you alone?"

Then a transformation -- he did not know if she had some divine power in her, but all the weight and stress lifted from his spirit as he saw the smile on her lips. He no longer saw a queen or a woman -- he saw a mother, a sister, a friend...

"Come play with us!"

He looked at her gentle hand and onto her face -- her eyes carried not just warmth, but a distinct sparkle, and so full of joy.

At that one moment, he saw Marina Ismail, a child.

He reached for her hand and felt a sudden rush -- for the home that was destroyed, and for the friends and family that he lost. Whatever magic or spell this Marina cast, he found someone whom he knew would understand, who would feel his pain.

He fell in her arms in an embrace -- and there he understood: this woman was no queen. She was a child, an orphan of war, just like he was.

Opening his weary eyes, the old man refocused on the blurry images in front of him. He picked up his paper bag and got up, making his way back home. His eyes traveled to the cloud of youthful energy still rushing to and fro in the never ending game of tag. He noticed that the lonely boy had managed to join them.

His eyes then wandered to a white marble sculpture. Surrounding its base were well-maintained flower-patches of red and yellow blossoms. These were enclosed by a low, white, ornate metal fence, adorned with a simple brass plaque:

"This Children's Park is dedicated to the memory of Marina Ismail (2XXX - 2XXX), Mother of Azadistan."

The sculpture was lifelike and was set, not on a 6-foot pedestal like other persons-worth-of-mention would, but on the ground. Marina was not standing, but kneeling on the field of flowers, surrounded by statues of four children, to whom she was reading a story to. The marble had immortalized her eyes' slight squint whenever she had that child-like smile. The old man shook his head, "That is so like you," he glanced back at the group of tireless children, "and I'll bet that's you working your magic again."

-- END --

I actually wanted the old man to be Setsuna, but I feel that the Meister -- and I feel that many would agree -- sees Marina more as a mother figure. I wanted a character to see her as a child, and the pint-sized canon fodder fit the bill just right.

I also imagined it was Setsuna who commissioned the sculpture; and in the initial draft, I wanted our lil' canon fodder to see this, "older man of Kurdish descent, with deep brown eyes." ^_^


	5. Christina Sierra: Shopaholic

Disclaimer: _Gundam 00_ characters and related indicia © Bandai Entertainment, Sunrise.

_I can't believe I've forgotten to publish this piece! DX Wrote this piece back in November 2008, and I was thinking that Christina Sierra needed some lovin' too. Bonus Feldt at the end!_

_Takes place in Season 1 (of course =P) referencing to episode 6, "Seven Swords." Spoilers for the end of said season, with a bit of segue to Season 2._

**Shopaholic  
**_**a Gundam00 fanfic by Cielo**_

There was no other place in the world that Christina Sierra would rather be than in an entire _avenue_ full of shops, beckoning her to swipe her shiny and flashy credit chip, as she would walk away, wares and things that other people may deem useless and excessive piled and hooked onto her tireless arms. From Manhattan, to Licester Square, to the 10ème Arrondissement, to Hong Kong's perpetual flea market and Shinjuku -- no place in the world were spared from her spending.

To the unknowing individual, her fluttering quips of, "Ooh! Do they have that in my size?", "Oh my God, those shoes are to die for!", "I just have to get the latest from that designer!" and random exclamations of excitement and material desire make her the ultimate example of the culture of consumerism. They took pity on the exhausted and unwilling pink-haired pigtailed girl whom she dragged along with her. Strangers have judged her to be very shallow, as she is excessively funded by some rich old man or getting her fortune through hush-hush means. Little do they know how correct they were -- except that the old man is actually dead, and her being a crucial crew member of a feared organization's space ship is what all the hush-hush is all about.

Some may have seen a toned down version of this shopaholic -- despite their difference in appearance, one could swear that the pink-haired girl she was with could be a younger sister -- a relative, or a very reluctant best friend. The latter had no desire to buy anything. At most, she could be seen clutching a newly purchased book or take-out food. If ever she had shopping bags with her, they were Christina's purchases.

But these strangers have never seen the Chris that her workmates have grown to know and love...

"Chris-chan... let's go back to the hotel already..."

It was a little before sundown -- and considering it was summer in a northern country, it was already late. Feldt and Chris had been up and out since lunch time.

"Just a little more, Feldt, I just have to get a last pair of shoes..."

Yawn, "But you said that seven pairs ago..."

After a sheepish smile, a quick word of apology, and a promise to a treat that Feldt decided to block out, they entered another shoe and bag shop. At this point, all these shops looked the same to Feldt.

The nice thing about shoe shops is that they had benches, and Feldt gratefully plopped her butt down on one and leaned back. She let her mind go into a blank, after thanking some higher power that she had worn her most comfortable pair of sneakers that day, while Chris mulled over the "last pair" she was going to buy, cheerfully chatting with an attendant. She closed her eyes, the shop's showy lights penetrating her eyelids, doing nothing much for her tired vision. She could make out Chris gleefully try out a pair... and another... and another... as Veda-text started to swim in her mind's eye. She shook her head as she opened her eyes, her gaze settling at some empty point by her toes.

"Feldt... Feldt? Come on, let's go home."

She heaved a sigh of relief as Chris had tapped her shoulder -- the bag contained _two_ pairs of shoes. She mentally rolled her eyes as they walked out and hopped onto a cab that would take them back to the hotel they stayed in.

Sumeragi had ordered dinner for them before she went down to the bar. Feldt had just wanted to sleep. She could be angry at Chris as she was not able to review the files they needed for the next intervention and encode relevant information into Veda, but she just sat on the bed, like a discarded doll.

Chris, still full of energy, opened all of her shopping and had fun playing dress-up in front of the mirror, randomly putting tops and skirts up on Feldt, "This would look so good on you!", "... and this!", "Oooh and this one!"

Feldt no longer knew at what time she fell asleep -- or how she actually managed to in the midst of Chris' cackle & gaggle. Next thing she knew, Sumeragi was rousing them up, as Wang Liumin had arranged to pick them up to get them into her place for the mission.

First thing she noticed was that she was comfortably tucked into bed, her socks taken off and hair undone. Next was that all the shopping that had seemed to have sprouted like grass last night were all gone -- only two very new, albeit very innocent looking red suitcases were sitting by the door, ready for pickup by the bellboy. And third...

"Thank you for shopping with me yesterday, Feldt."

Chris had sat down on the bed, tapping her hand by the area of Feldt's leg -- there was a very chic ensemble of a shirt and skirt, a wide brimmed hat and a matching purse.

"Chris-chan..."

"I figured you don't like shopping at all -- not even for yourself. So I took the liberty of expanding your wardrobe a little bit."

The brown-haired girl pointed to another suitcase -- yellow in color -- this time by the foot of Feldt's bed, "But the real 'thank you' gift is this."

Chris held up a pair of sandals -- one that Feldt had figured to be one of the last two that she had purchased. The younger girl immediately tried them on -- the heels weren't too high and were age-appropriate, and stylish enough to be worn with a variety of clothes and for different occasions. She gave in to a smile.

"See? You should smile more often, Feldt!"

"Thank you, Chris-chan."

"You're welcome -- come on, get ready and let's get some breakfast."

At Wang Liumin's house, compact Veda terminals were already set up for the day's scheduled intervention.

"Oh no," Feldt fretted in her seat, "I've forgotten about the documentation and data encoding last night."

"Don't sweat it," Chris cheered up her comrade, "they're done and ready!"

"When...?"

Feldt got a wink, "Last night!"

***

For years to come, Feldt had wondered how Chris harnessed all that energy. She was a person full of positivity that the extreme situations they encountered in combat easily got to her. But other than that, Chris was someone the Ptolemaios crew could count on -- she was a fast thinker, and her reports were clear and always on-time. Feldt had also wondered why she placed so much importance on the crew and Meisters' bonding -- she would find that Chris never really had a family to speak of and longed for that warmth and sense of belonging.

As for romance -- well, who did not want some?

Feldt grew out of the shoes and clothes she had been given. But as she tied her hair back, looking at herself in the mirror with a confident smile, she is reminded of a sister's attention, and of a friend's unmatched generosity -- one that would give up her life so Feldt can live hers.

- END -


End file.
